


Once Upon A Dream

by Haberdasher



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Archivist Jonathan Sims, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, False Memories, Fear, Gen, Gender Non-Conforming Jonathan Sims, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Memory Alteration, Memory Magic, Memory Related, Nightmares, Watching, Worms, aka i'm not sure if this works in canon but too bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23054557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: Jon reliving other people’s statements in nightmare form leads to an unexpected discovery.
Relationships: Sasha James & Jonathan Sims
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	Once Upon A Dream

Jon was living through someone else’s nightmare again.

He wasn’t sure if that was literally true, wasn’t sure if the other people featured in these nightmares necessarily had dreams that matched his own. They sometimes featured people who weren’t around anymore, people who were already dead, so they couldn’t _all_ be other peoples’ nightmares, could they? Unless even after death, whatever this was, whatever _he_ was now, lingered on...

But he wasn’t going to think about that, not unless he had to, and certainly not right now, because the more relevant bit at the moment was that he was living through a _new_ nightmare, and he wasn’t sure how that was possible.

Alright, so he knew how new nightmares, new dreams tinged in fear that both was and was not his own, generally entered his usual line-up. Jon would never admit it, and had managed to halfway convince even himself that it was a coincidence, but he knew, he _knew_ that it was more than mere coincidence that all the nightmares he’d been having lately lined up nicely with statements he’d read or taken, that new ones only appeared when he had gone through another statement recently. But this nightmare was new to him, this _person_ was new to him, and Jon couldn’t seem to remember the statement that must be the connection he was missing.

So Jon watched events play out, focused on every detail to try to put the pieces together. That was all he could do, after all. He’d learned that time and time again, that he couldn’t interfere with the horrific events happening in the dreams, couldn’t intervene, couldn’t communicate; all he could do was stand there in the background and watch.

The woman looked to be about Jon’s age, or perhaps a bit younger. Thin wire-frame glasses outlined deep brown eyes, with her skin a few shades lighter and free of any blemishes Jon could see. She had straight black hair that fell down past her shoulders and onto her chest, with a few braids and ribbons and clips helping to break up what would otherwise be simply a sea of inky black locks. Her clothes were fairly proper-looking, business casual or thereabouts, and Jon initially thought that they almost looked like the sort of thing _he’d_ wear before looking closer and deciding that no, he probably couldn’t pull off that long, lacy green skirt as well as the mystery woman did. Her blouse, though, black and white with a diamond-shaped pattern on it, really wouldn’t look too out of place in Jon’s closet, though given how tall she was, it’d probably be far too large on him.

Their surroundings were dimly-lit, but appeared to be an old, abandoned pub, complete with a still-intact bar. On the far end of the room from where the woman was currently standing was a vaguely-humanoid shape that let out a low groan, which Jon presumed was the subject of the statement he still couldn’t recall.

Then the woman walked closer to the source of the groan, and the worms came into view, silvery and wriggling, and Jon knew those worms, still had the marks from them covering his skin, but that just deepened the mystery. The woman wasn’t Harriet Lee--Jon had been through Timothy Hodge’s statement slash nightmare enough to know that much--and she _certainly_ wasn’t Jane Prentiss, so what options were left?

Another victim, or near-miss, for Prentiss? But he’d been over those files time and time again and couldn’t remember such a person cropping up, and the figure in the corner didn’t look to be Prentiss anyway. Oh, the worms were the same, there was no doubt about that, but Jon knew her form well enough, and the build wasn’t right, looked more masculine than feminine, as much as such gendered features could be assigned to what had become little more than a flesh hive.

The woman let out a gasp, and the worms made their way towards her, and she tried to stamp on them individually but it wasn’t enough, of _course_ it wasn’t enough, and Jon could feel her fear, feel the terror that engulfed her as the worms crawled ever closer, ready and willing to turn her into yet another flesh hive...

It’s not until she grabbed the fire extinguisher and turned it on the worms that Jon realized who he’s looking at, realized why he doesn’t recognize her.

He already knew that Sasha James isn’t really the figure that still comes to mind when he thinks of the name, that of a short woman with a blonde bob and a face full of freckles, but he’d never been able to see what she actually looked like. But it seemed that now, after his confrontation with what was Not Sasha but had taken her place nonetheless, he’d gotten that chance after all.

After the worms all died, before going over to check the wallet of what was once Timothy Hodge, Sasha looked over at Jon. It isn’t the first time that someone’s looked over at him during one of these dreams, the action coming to a halt as he watches them and they watch him back, wide eyes filled with fear at being forever trapped in the worst experience of their life while Jon just stands there and watches. There’s some of that wide-eyed fear in Sasha’s eyes too, and that stung more than a bit, but there’s something more in her gaze, something more positive, something that looks a little like hope.

Then the action resumed, and Sasha finished going through the motions of checking the wallet and leaving the abandoned pub, and soon enough Jon’s whisked away to another nightmare, another statement, with Sasha’s name still on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr at [haberdashing](https://haberdashing.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
